ABC With House MD
by pleaseallowme
Summary: I wouldn’t normally offer this information, but, being stared at with Wilson turns me on a bit. Just a bit, so don’t get any ideas. Just the idea that people are thinking disgustingly perverted things about us, and I know they are makes me want to jump hi


**A**

My heart was pounding harder then ever before. It was a feeling like death was coming, which I knew it wasn't, but the mix of whiskey, vicodin, and my insatiable new found love for Wilson made it feel like I was going to die. I was sitting on the couch, watching him flip through channels. I knew he knew I was staring at him, but he didn't budge. He didn't look over and tell me to stop, or even pretend that he didn't notice. He just didn't move. I'd never seen him so still in my life, and it was making me nervous.

I was restless. My leg was bothering me, but it always did and tonight was no worse then any other night, but I couldn't sit still, and I left the impression on Wilson that I was in more pain then usual. He turned his head, and his eyes were full of concern for me, his friend with the bum leg, and that made me love him even more.

I'm defiantly not a touchy-feely type of person, and anyone who has ever met me will agree 100 with me, which would be the only thing they would agree with me on. When I fall in love, which is not very often, I get this urge to reach out and touch that person. I want to feel them close to me. I would never admit that to anyone, so you should feel special.

Wilson was looking at me with such fierceness that it made me sigh. I didn't know what to do. He had a way of making you feel important and good at any moment in your life. You could have just killed a puppy and he would make you feel alright, almost like you did the right thing. He was one to find any way to justify his actions and the actions of others, so this got me thinking. If I was to reach out and pull him into me for a light but lustful kiss, it would be okay, he would just blame it on the alcohol.

He would blame the amount I had drank, and that would be okay for tonight. But what about tomorrow when I saw him in the hallway and I pushed him up against a wall and started making out with him right there in front of everyone. How could he justify that? It's easy for me I guess, I would just tell him that I loved him and that would be it, the end of a 10 year friendship. It's easier then it sounds. I would love to say that I wouldn't care as long as I told him my real feelings, but then I would be lying, just like everyone else.

"Your leg hurts doesn't it?" He asked me. It was more of a statement really.

"Yes, but I'm fine." I was fine.

"Then what's going on with you?" He rested his arm on the top of the couch. It's the little details that really catch my interest.

Resting his arm on the top of the couch meant that he wasn't truly interested unless it was something juicy. Like, let's say, me being in love with him. I'm pretty sure he wasn't expecting that though. But it didn't stop my mouth from spitting those words out all over him.

"I love you."

"You've had too much to drink. You don't know what you're saying." See, I told you.

"Nope, I'm pretty sure I know what I'm saying. I'm not that drunk thank you very much." Why the hell was I saying this? I should have blamed the drink. Fuck this wasn't good.

"So, you love me? When did you come to this realization?" He was always sarcastic when he felt awkward.

"Around 1:30 this afternoon. You looked really good standing out on the balcony." Holy shit, stop talking.

"House, what the hell is this? Is this one of your sick little jokes?" He was getting pissy.

"No joke, I'm actually serious this time." I just can't shut up.

"When you say love-"

"I mean, I want to have sex with you love." Shit. Shit. Shit.

He didn't say anything and I was desperately trying to think of a way to save myself. I could have yelled out, 'ha-ha it was all a lie. I got you good that time.' But no again, my mouth wouldn't let me.

"I don't really know what to say to that House." And thus ends the friendship.

"Don't bother, you can go."

"No, I just, didn't know you felt that way."

"Well, I do. So sue me."

"It's good."

"Good?"

"Yeah, it saves me the trouble of having to say it first."

This just took a different turn.

"Let's skip over the lovey-dovey shit, and go right to the making out. Unless, you don't feel the same and I interpreted that all wrong, in which case, it was all the booze." Oh now I say it.

He edged closer to me, which was a surprise. It was almost like an electric current passed through my body at that moment, or whatever. All I know is that it felt weird, but a good kind of weird, so I moved closer too.

"Your right, you know. House, you should have said something earlier."

"Why didn't you say anything? Why is it always me?"

"I didn't want to ruin the friendship."

"Dido."

I grabbed him then, by the tie, that disgusting orange and blue striped tie that he insisted on wearing every Thursday. I pulled him into me, and for the first time, was intentionally touching my best friend. And smelling his hair, and smelling the faint left-over of his cologne. We weren't in a very comfortable position, that damned couch wasn't big enough for that, so I pushed him back. I propped myself over a little so I could bend down a tad to kiss him.

Let me tell you, that first kiss between someone that you have known for a long time is the most awkward experience you will ever have. I'm usually pretty good in awkward moments but this was just insane. I felt self conscious of my stubble, I knew I should have fucking shaved. But as I scrapped it along his cheek he let out a slight moan, and I didn't seem to care anymore. He found my lips first, slowly applying pressure to his kiss as if he could hurt me. I had to stifle a laugh before forcing his mouth open with my tongue.

It was better then I thought it was going to be. His mouth tasted like whiskey and mouthwash, which was surprisingly a good combination. Wilson had the habit of using mouthwash more then five times a day. He kept a bottle in the bottom drawer of his desk. I on the other hand was hoping that my spearmint gum had held out since 2 that afternoon. I hadn't eaten anything, just drank whiskey.

Wilson's hair was remarkably smooth. I ran my hands threw it a few times, grabbing locks and tugging a bit. He did the same with me after a quick nod letting him know it was okay. We both knew that tonight was not the night to go any further. The kiss had been weird enough, thank you. So when we parted, genuinely out of breath, we sat there very content in what was done. And he slept on the couch. I slept alone.

**B**

Work. Sucks. No matter what is going on it just does. So when we walked in together for the first time in a while, it was something I could enjoy for once. I wouldn't normally offer this information, but, being stared at with Wilson turns me on a bit. Just a bit, so don't get any ideas. Just the idea that people are thinking disgustingly perverted things about us, and I know they are, makes me want to jump him right here.

He stared at his shoes while we walked the halls. I knew it, he was regretting last night.

"Come to my office." Wilson was awful bossy this morning.

"Why?"

"Just come to my office, House."

I followed him in and was delighted, yes delighted, when he pushed me against the wall and began kissing me feverously like the night before. I had to hold onto his cabinet or I would have fallen down, but knowing the state of Wilson, he would have just taken that opportunity to mound me. Actually that would have been a good idea. Damn.

"What was that about?" I was out of breath, clearly.

"I couldn't wait anymore."

"Wow, I've created a monster, a hungry-for-sex monster."

"Who said anything about sex?"

"Me." I'm pretty sure I winked at him before I walked out of his office.

Like I said before, work sucks, so I avoided actually doing any at all costs. I sat at my desk all day, literally, popping a vicodin every once in a while, and ordering my little minions to do my bidding. It was quiet nice, I should do it more often. Wilson and I spent lunch hour making out in his office, and I was about to unzip his fly when there was a knock at his door. Turned out to be his damned secretary wanting to make sure everything was okay.

When it was time to go home I became all nervous again. We were going to do it. I'm getting all antsy just talking about it. Anyways, there was a slight rush back to my apartment. Wilson drove, and I realized he was actually going the speed limit and not below it. He knew we were going to do it. Oh hell, everyone knew.

**C**

I sat on my bed and leaned the cane on the wall. Wilson had gone to the bathroom first and I just waited. When he finally came back, he was naked. Wilson was naked in my room. And I just stared like an idiot, until he kneeled down in front of me and began to unzip my jeans. I held myself up with my hands behind me.

"Lift up a bit." He ordered. Since when was he the man?

I did and he pulled my jeans off from under me. He then proceeded the pull my boxers off as well, while I carefully took off my t-shirt, it was my favorite. I wasn't going to ruin it for anything.

He carefully took my cock into his hand and with the other hand felt around under the bed for my lube. Wait, now that I think of it, how did he know that it was under there. Damn it Wilson.

He squirted a little directly onto me and I groaned at the sensation. He began to rub it like he was rubbing it down to see the secret treasure inside. I was squirming and moaning and pulling at the sheets, and his hair. It wasn't a pretty sight. I'm always horrible when I'm getting off. He stopped just before I was going to cum that bastard, and sat next to me on the bed, and I did him.

I can say that he is defiantly gentler when I jacked him off. He didn't move as much, but he made louder sounds then me, which was nice I suppose. I pushed my hand away when he was about to cum. What a masochist, damn he loves torture.

He flipped onto his side and neither of us had to say anything to know exactly what he wanted. I squirted some lube onto my fingers and stuck two inside him. He pounded at the mattress as I worked at stretching him a bit before I entered him. And let me just, ladies, I am very well endowed, well, it's not like it matters anymore.

Finally I found myself a comfortable position before sticking it to him. Is that what you kids say? Anyway, I made sure I was dripping with lube before I tried to enter him. And when I did, wow, let me say, fucking him was fucking unbelievable. There was moaning and groaning and swearing and sweating and panting and I'm getting a little turned out just thinking about it. Where's Wilson?

He fucked me too of course. It was a bit harder for him because I had to be laying a certain way. But we finally found a rhythm and it was good. Really, really good. There was a lot of cum. It was sticky and messy, and certainly something I didn't want to deal with after that, so I made him clean up of course.

"I love you." Wilson you old softy you.

"Love you too."

"Can I move in?"

"Yup."

"Okay."

"Does your leg hurt?"

"I'm fine."

"Want a vicodin?"

"Yup."

"I'll get you one."

There was some noise, I don't know what he was doing, but he came back with vicodin, so it didn't matter.

"Here."

"Thanks."

"I'm going to sleep okay?"

"It's only 8:00 Wilson."

"Oh."

"Let's watch a movie."

"I'll go out and get some beer."

"Okay."

Yeah, I think that's how the conversation went. He kissed me then and I watched him get dressed. He went out, bought beer and we stayed in and watched a movie. This all happened over a year ago almost exactly.

We are simple guys, best friends, boyfriends, lovers, whatever. Everyday something changes, which at first annoyed the hell out of me. The one thing that kept me going was the fact that I could still bug the hell out of Wilson. Oh yeah, and I love him.


End file.
